


Rat Nest

by sharivan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, House Cleaning, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-07 01:12:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17356145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharivan/pseuds/sharivan
Summary: Rat nests are cozy for rats, right? Maybe he could just embrace this whole situation. Although that wouldn't solve the 'having my boyfriend over without traumatizing him' problem.(the cleaning and kink fic)





	Rat Nest

The thing is that Grantaire has lived alone for a while. He's always been messy, sure, but when a new friend stopped by and was vocally appalled by his whole deal he gave up on letting people see his place ever. It's maybe isolating and unhealthy, sure, but it also avoids the terrible revelation of just how incompetent he really is, so.

This approach's days became numbered when he started dating Enjolras. He knows that. You can't just tell your boyfriend 'actually you can never see my apartment,' that's some Bluebeard shit right there.

So after an afternoon at Enjolras' apartment, he says "Hey, uh, I can't come over tomorrow. Need to catch up on some stuff at home."

"Oh." Enjolras looks down at the table. "You know, we don't always have to hang out here. I'd like to come over to your place too."

Shit. This conversation is happening now. Okay. "Oh! Uh...Enjolras. I want that too. But my apartment is a disaster right now and I need to get the squalor down several levels first."

"I'm not coming over to  _judge_ you, R."

"No, no, but once you saw it you wouldn't be able to help yourself." This is undeniably the apartment of a functional adult who like, puts things away in designated spots and washes his dishes every day. Grantaire kisses him and leaves before they can talk about it any more. 

xXx

Despite his best intentions, very little cleaning happens once he gets home. He drops his jacket and backpack on the couch and collapses on top of them. Just a quick look at twitter as he gets in the right mindset.

> @tristanreveur: need a guy to dominate me, but like, about reading books & writing & making me love myself & life more
> 
> @tristanreveur: like a life coach, but a life coach who will also spit in my mouth & pull my hair & choke me occasionally
> 
> @tristanreveur: [being choked] How many pages did you write today? Did you drink enough water? Were you kind to yourself today, you little slut?

 He sends it to Jehan. "The fucking dream, right?"

"Stop bragging about your boyfriend."

Which is...hmmn. It's an attractive idea. The thought of bringing it up with Enjolras kind of makes him stop breathing. Wouldn't it be a new opportunity for Enjolras to realize how much fucking work he is and give up on trying to date someone who can't even take care of himself? It's so much to put on somebody.

He looks around the room. Piles are the dominant theme. Not tidy piles or, like, structurally sound ones. Piles collapsing into each other, plates over papers over dirty clothes like geological layers of squalor.

The cave-like kitchenette is maybe even worse. The dishes continue, although more on the counter and table than floor. Some of them might have been clean before they spent weeks out on the counter crowded alongside ones waiting to be washed and crumbs and whatever else found its way there.

There's no clean place anywhere. Does he need to clear an area first and then find a way to sort things there?

Maybe a little more twitter as he comes up with a plan.

xXx

 The next morning things look pretty much the same. He had moved some of the floor dishes to the kitchen. Progress, maybe?

Some of those dishes crashed to the floor as he reached for the faucet to fill the coffee pot. Motherfucker. He is not going to spiral about this. He is going to make coffee and eat something and clean up the shards all over the fucking floor.

Okay. Okay. Back on the couch with some food in his stomach. He can do this.

It's fine to  _fantasize_ that he's cleaning because Enjolras has told him to. It's not actually making his poor boyfriend feel like he's got to literally talk him through basic self care because Grantaire is too useless to fucking clean up after himself. Anyway. This isn't hating himself time. This is cleaning up like a good boy for his dom time.

He may draw out some of the movements a little and spend more time rubbing at his nipples and upper arms than is strictly called for in tidying, but there is a genuine cleared-floor path from the couch to the kitchen when he's done, no stepping over a pile for fear of breaking something necessary. 

He takes a picture. On the screen the remaining piles and detritus stand out more than the clear path. 

This does not feel good. There is a distinct lack of making out and positive reinforcement going on here to distract him from how shitty the apartment still is and how little difference he has made. 

But it's still not self hatred time. It's being proud of doing things time. Christ this is hard, he is not equipped for this. This was a fun, hot experiment and now it is neither of those things. 

"But you tried, T," he says out loud, rubbing at his neck. "You cleaned and you were good."

It felt remarkably bad to be so pathetic he needed to tell himself that out loud. 

Okay. Maybe some twitter.

xXx

By the time he looked at the clock again at least an hour had passed. An hour and a half? He didn't really check the time when he stopped cleaning.

E: How are you doing?

R: Cleaning is terrible

E: 🙁 Do you want any help?

Does he  _ever_. But the thing is this isn't a regular 'hey my routine fell apart, help me catch up' kind of mess so much as a rat's nest of all his worldly belongings and he has tried so fucking hard not to let his basic rat-ness show to Enjolras. 

Sure, sure, honest communication, but UGH. 

R: I'm kind of embarrassed about how bad it is

He pushed the phone away and got up from the couch. Food? What's even in the fridge right now?

His phone vibrates. UGH.

E: Ok. Let me know if you need anything

The kitchen now? The kitchen. Jesus. Some of these fucking dishes need to be on the floor to give him room to work. And everything's so dried on and horrible. Why does he even have dishes? Why has he bothered trying to cook at home like a functional adult instead of eating, what, string cheese and apples and granola bars? Like a rat.

Rat nests are cozy for rats, right? Maybe he could just embrace this whole situation. Although that wouldn't solve the 'having my boyfriend over without traumatizing him' problem.

R: Ok I actually need you to tell me to clean the kitchen

He runs some hot water in the sink. There are clean washcloths somewhere probably. He sniffs the one closest to the sink. No, that would not help any of these dishes. Some scratchy sponge thing under the sink looks new. Sure.

And a text notification.

E: Clean for 20 minutes R. I'll text you when time's up 💛

These clean dishes will need to go somewhere and that somewhere is a cleanish towel on the floor. That's just where things are right now.

This stuff is just  _crusted_ on. It's not like they're nice dishes. They're just whatever was at the thrift store when he moved. What if he just tossed them and got new ones? Obviously it would be wasteful and shitty, but also he wouldn't have to try and wash them.

Piling has not been especially kind to this shit. The chipped ones at least, he can throw those away. The silverware can soak in the pasta pot for a while, that seems salvageable. 

He's dumped the garbage and is digging around for a new bag when his phone goes off.

E: You're done! How did it go?

From the right angles it just looks regular person messy, if the floor's out of frame. 

R: Progress?

R: Haha thanks for your help 

> @tristanreveur: need a guy to dominate me, but like, about reading books & writing & making me love myself & life more
> 
> @tristanreveur: like a life coach, but a life coach who will also spit in my mouth & pull my hair & choke me occasionally
> 
> @tristanreveur: [being choked] How many pages did you write today? Did you drink enough water? Were you kind to yourself today, you little slut?

This part is manageable enough. Scrape the silverware clean, rinse it, dump it on the towel. Scrape the pan and do the same. Next to soak, a sinkful of other dishes from the counter. Maybe the stove will be clear too by the end of the day.

E: Want to try another round?

R: Sounds good

E: And go

Those dishes should soak longer probably. Maybe put the clean ones away then.

He is of course a disgusting person but all the crumbs in the silverware drawer still seem weird. How did they get there? Does he just eat over the open drawer? ...that does sound familiar. Okay. Dump some of those out. Clean floor spoons in. And the pot usually goes...well it goes on this mostly empty shelf now, evicting the yogurt tub lids. Back to the sink.

It is a little discouraging that there are still dirty dishes on the floor at the end of this round. The clean floor dishes are obviously good though. There's even a clear burner on the stove.

R: Please admire my good works

E: R! You're doing so good for me sweetheart

God this is so much better than trying to do this himself.  _Enjolras_ saying it. 

R: Someday it'll even be clean enough for you to come over

That is not a text sound. That is a phone call sound.

"Yeah?"

"You really don't have to feel bad abut this because of me, R. I'm not going to be upset because cleaning is hard for you."

"No, I know." Does he know? It's the right thing to say, sure, but his track record of not horrifying people who come over is not great.

"I mean, I know you probably won't but you'll be uncomfortable and maybe surprised it's worse than whatever you're expecting and I'd feel shitty making you come over to my filth den instead of hanging out somewhere nice."

"I know you're embarrassed about this but I can handle this, I'm not going to make things harder for you."

Maybe this won't reveal what a terrible person he is. And if it does maybe Enjolras deserves to see that firsthand.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Are you working tomorrow?"

"Uh, not after...3 pm. Does that work for you?"

Grantaire can probably make time in his tightly scheduled day of freelance transcription for a visit.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

As soon as they hang up there's a text.

E: Y/N? 

> @tristanreveur: need a guy to dominate me, but like, about reading books & writing & making me love myself & life more

R: very yes

xXx

By the time Enjolras shows up Grantaire has gotten the dishes off the floor, both clean and otherwise. The rest of the wreckage remains.

"Hey R."

Grantaire lets him in before they kiss. "Still up for it," he promises.

"I'm glad. You ready to clean up for me, sweet boy?"

"I'm ready."

"Good boy. Start by the door, sweetheart, I'll tell you when to move on."

It is so much clearer not having to make all these decisions himself, not choosing where to start and when and how clean is clean enough. Just the actual task and the weight of Enjolras' gaze. 

Piles are the strategy here. Taking apart old ones, sorting them into new ones of dirty laundry and papers to organize and actual trash.

"Good. Making this a nice place for me, showing me what a good boy you are. So eager to please."

And God he is. He wants that so much, to make Enjolras happy and cared for like he should be. To show him how much he wants to make the apartment somewhere that's good enough and welcoming enough for him.

"Come here, sweet boy. Sit in my lap." His hands are empty and then he's straddling Enjolras, warm and longing and the full focus of his attention.

Enjolras rubs a thumb along Grantaire's lips until they pull it in. "Such a good boy for me. I love watching you clean like a pretty little house sub. Do you ever think about that? About moving in together and keeping house for us?"

Enjolras is ten times cleaner than Grantaire but right now he doesn't care, caught up in the fantasy of being a cosseted house sub, painting and showing his devotion with every household task. He could do all that for someone else. It's when it's only him that it gets hard.

"I'd be so good for you," he ventures.

"I know. You're good for me already. Now -" his hands move to Grantaire's hips, pushing him up to his feet. "I want an extra clean kitchen to cook in tonight. Go scrub it down for me, sweet thing."

Dishes. Garbage. He's scrubbing at the stovetop - where did this gunk come from? - when Enjolras comes up behind him.

"Your sleeves keep falling down," he says. "Let me get them out of your way." There are hands at his hips and his shirt is coming off and yes, he is fine with this.

"Don't let me interrupt you," Enjolras says. Grantaire scrubs at the stove again, his body rocking as he moves from the greasy panel against the wall to the spill by the oven door as Enjolras pets him, one hand moving down to rub his thigh. He can't help but whine when Enjolras stops touching him and sits back down.

"My needy boy. Finish cleaning the kitchen and you'll get your reward."

Has he ever been so on task? Wipe down those counters. Dishes in cabinets. Cabinet doors and floors probably shouldn't be sticky. Grantaire gets down on the floor to deal with those. Kneeling on dirty linoleum isn't  _great_ but Enjolras looking at him from across the room makes it far more tolerable.

"I think the rest of the grime is what's holding the kitchen together," Grantaire says when the first chunk of grout comes up along with the dirt. 

Enjolras laughs. "Best to stop there, then."

Grantaire goes over to him and there are hands in his hair and the heady assurance of what a sweet needy slut he is. He rocks against Enjolras and slides a hand down to open Enjolras' pants. It's not long before he comes on Grantaire's chest. 

"So good for me, sweetheart. Show me how much you want it." Enjolras' hand on his neck tightens as he thrusts against him and comes as well.

They sprawl out on the couch together still breathing fast. 

"I'm super here for doing this again," Grantaire offers. It needs to be established up top.

"I really liked it too. One for the rotation."

Good sex and regular chore motivation, a win-win. And more immediately, time for a nap before dinner. Grantaire wriggles into a more comfortable position and settles in, still cuddling with Enjolras.


End file.
